As the hot water soaks my body, I bring myself back to the reason for why I’m here—why I’m covered in blood. My alter ego consumes me as I allow the beast to devour me once again.
***
It’s late when I make my way out of Cami’s house.
She moved to Sulfur Heights six months ago, trying to give her mom a fresh start. She sold her car to pay bills shortly after she moved here. I was pissed she didn’t tell me she needed money; I would have helped her in a heartbeat. Then I thought about her uncle. Matt has more money than God, why the hell isn’t he helping her survive? Why doesn’t she ask him for money? I don’t bother asking because I can sense this family disconnection, but I can’t help wondering. Matt pushes everyone else around, how is it he would allow his precious niece to struggle? It baffles me. However, when she’s ready, she will share her story with me.
Now that Cami’s in Sulfur Heights, she’s closer to her job and within walking distance to my house. Initially, I was glad she was so close. Often times, when I find it impossible to sleep, I will wander down the street to be near her. She is a comforting part of my life, but lately, I hate that she is only a few blocks from me. After tonight, I need to stay away from her before she gets involved even more. Before I get involved even more.
In the shower, I realized the unusual tension between Cami and me is too great. I can’t stay here anymore. I’m going to tell her as much when I get out, yet she must have smoked a bowl and passed out while I was in the shower.
It doesn’t bother me that she smokes weed and drinks as much as she does. Her uncle gives her weed whenever she needs it, and every now and then, I will leave a baggie on her dresser before I leave. Am I enabling her? Yes, I totally am, but who am I to judge? I’m a fucking drug dealer and a murderer. I’m a puppet to the underworld. I have no right to say what is or isn’t good because I am anything but. I’m evil and have done horrendous things. If the girl wants to smoke weed or get wasted, so be it.
As I walk toward my house, I realize Jake has the Challenger. Ugh, I will have to face him eventually for my disappearance at the race. From the text message Ronnie sent me a few minutes ago, he took care of the situation. However, I know I’m only biding time before Jake is up my ass about this. He is very observant, and the more I stay away, remain on my phone, or spend time with Ronnie and not him, Jake’s going to take notice.
Yet, the more my alter ego takes over my life, the harder it is for me to escape it. More and more, I find myself choosing to be evil because that’s what I’ve had to morph into to survive the drug life. But right now, something more pressing is calling me—something just as sinister.
When I can’t escape my monstrous side, I want to do dark things with my mind and body. I not only want to lose myself in a woman, I want to dominate and reign my villainous side over one. I will never hurt them, but I want to control them. Whenever my life is spinning out of control, this will always bring me back in. When I feel like this, all I need to regain my self-discipline back is to ram my dick into a particularly eager stripper and have her wail my name in pleasure.
I don’t have any desire to woo the girls like I used to. All I want is to make my intentions known, fuck, and then leave. This is what leads me night after night to the strip clubs. Each day, my other life is becoming harder and harder to live, therefore sinking myself inside a woman is a welcome distraction. It’s the perfect stress reliever.
There are a handful of girls whom I frequent because I know them. They’re not dirty skanks, and they don’t expect a marriage proposal once we’re done. Besides, after my encounter with Cami tonight, I may even take two of them on. I will do just about anything to get this out of control feeling out of my head.
As I pull open the door to the strip club, I note how busy it is. Men and a few women are surrounding the stage, the stools at the bar are full, and almost every booth has someone in it. If I take a girl away tonight, she’ll be missing out on some good money, but I will make it worth it—physically and financially.
The room is dark, and the exotic music is booming from the sound system. The room being fairly busy tonight discourages me slightly until I see one of my regular girls, Lana. She is making her rounds through the crowd, shoving her tits in customers’ faces and giving her special lap dances.
The first time I met Lana, we fucked in the corner booth of the club. She fell to her knees, sucking my dick, and when she came up for air, I pulled her over my lap, burying myself deep into her flesh. It was erotic and hot as hell. She had me hooked from the jump on strippers. Now, when I live my double life, strippers are always part of it.
I make my way into the dark room and head to my table. Located in the far back corner, I sit and wait for Lana to notice my presence. The table is in the worst possible spot from the main stage; patrons hate sitting so far away from all the action. I find this spot perfect, though. It has a bird’s eye view of the entire bar yet allows you to blend into the background, remaining anonymous. It’s kind of become my established VIP seat, and here, in the blackness of this corner, I can feed the beast that lies within me.
When Lana notices me, I nod my head in the direction of the backroom. She holds up her hand, indicating she needs five minutes, and I nod then sit back and relax into the vinyl covered booth.
As I wait, I start feeling guilty about leaving Cami tonight, something I’ve never felt before. I have been feeling differently about her lately, like I don’t want to ever leave her. Initially, I thought it was from spending so much time together, but now I’m not so sure. Tonight proves that my feelings for her are becoming deeper, more than just friends. The thought is unsettling.
Nothing was out of the norm when I was at her house. She knows all about the double life I lead and I’m comfortable with her knowing, but there’s more to her now. I have showered at her place before, and most times, I stay over because it’s becoming impossible to go home, yet tonight, it was completely different.
She was standing there, yearning to touch me—to be near me—and I’d be lying if I didn’t say the feeling was mutual. She has become an important part of my life, but who am I kidding? First, she is related to the man who employees me, the CEO of our drug operation. He would kill me on the spot if he found out I was with Cami, and it doesn’t matter in what way—friends, lovers, or soul mates—Matt won’t give a fuck. Cami is off limits. No negotiations. Second, there’s my family, particularly Jake. If I get involved deeper with Cami, he’ll know who she is and how we met. Last, and the most important, is keeping your personal life separate from your work life. I don’t talk about my family, and for the most part, no one seems to ask about my brothers. Sure they know who I’m related to, but if I start to act on my feelings for Cami, Matt could use my family against me to break us apart. I refuse to allow them to get involved.
So many feelings are burning through me, but as soon as my eyes connect with Lana’s, all other thoughts dissolve and my body awakens. Her fake tits are barely covered by her red bikini top, and her small ass is exposed with a piece of red string trailing between her cheeks.
I stand and look her in the eye, which is easy to do with all the girls in here wearing six-inch stripper heals. I lean forward and place my lips next to her ear then whisper in a bold command, “I want to fuck.” She nods her head. “Find a friend because I’ve got enough energy for both of you.”
Lana looks to me and then out to the audience. A slight smirk comes across her cheeks. “Come on, I think I know the perfect person.”
***
The three of us are inside Lana’s apartment located across the street from the strip club. I rarely demand to have more than one woman to be with, but I’m feeling exceptionally tense and I need to release it. The girls are lying on Lana’s bed, ready to be fucked.
The friend Lana brought with us is a quintessential punk chick. She’s a fan favorite at the strip club; covered in tattoos, piercings in her nose and lip, huge fake tits, and black hair with blue highlights
. She’s wearing a ton of black eye make-up and is tiny, yet she looks as though she can handle just about anything I dish out, which is exactly what I need. I don’t bother to get her name; it’s not necessary at all for what I have in mind.
The girls sit up and do a quick shot of vodka then lie back down. They start kissing each other while rubbing their hands over each other’s tits. It’s hot, yes, but it’s not what I was thinking. Being with two women is amazing, but I’m not like most men. I don’t want them touching each other. That’s my job, not theirs.
I pull my shirt over the back of my head and begin removing all of my clothes. Fucking two women is something I would have never thought I’d be doing at this point in my life. Prior to becoming the man I am today, I’d never disrespect women. I’d never have more than one woman in my bed, and I would be sweet to them. Although I am adventurous, I’d never be like this—so demanding with my desires. But I have become someone else, and this person is becoming all I know. I’m not a sweet person; I’m evil, and I’m like this because there is no other way to be. Now, I crave it. I’m falling into a tailspin of this so-called life and it’s consuming me, mind and body.
I’m standing naked at the foot of Lana’s bed when I demand coldly, “Stop. That’s not what I want.” The girls stop groping each other and stare at me. Both of them have excitement in their eyes for the pleasure I will dish out, and the pleasure is what I will allow them to feel, eventually. But first, I want to have a little fun.
I walk to the side of the bed and Lana sucks in a deep breath of air, panting with anticipation. “Up.” I motion to her hands and she raises them above her head. Swiftly, I yank the string bikini top from her chest and tie her wrists to the bed then I move back to the end of her bed, pull her matching thong down, spread her legs apart, and then expose her naked body entirely.
The punk girl starts to salivate then falls forward, sucking on Lana’s tits. She’s teasing her nipples between her teeth, but this is not what I want, either.
I lean in toward the girl then grab her tiny face in my hand. As she looks at me with curiosity, I simply reply, “This is not what I want, either.” Gently, I guide her to the other side of the bed, and repeat the same actions with the punk girl. Finding a bikini top on the floor, I demand, “Up,” and she willingly obliges.
After both girls are tied up, I gaze at them, deciding where to start first. Nothing is sexier than seeing a woman’s face when she comes. Knowing the simplest touches to just the right spots can have them overwhelmed in ecstasy is powerful. With them tied up, I hold all the control and only I can determine when they come. The thought makes me as hard as steel.
Sliding on the bed between them, I run my hands up their legs simultaneously. Both girls tremble with delight, their breathing labored as I make my way to the peak of their thighs. I graze their clits, and they’re already swollen with excitement. I begin to touch them, making small circles on their delicate spots, working both of them with my fingers. Slowly. Torturously. As one is about to come, I pull back, not allowing her to.
Both of them are wet, so wet they’re practically dripping. I insert my fingers into both of them at once, and with smooth, expert movements, I thrust my fingers in and out. A slick layer of sweat begins to form over their bodies as I take my time caressing them. It’s a sweet torture and I love it. I’m controlling them, claiming them as mine as I feel them from the inside.
“Fuck!” the punk girl shouts. “Make me come! I need to come!” she screams at me, begging me to allow her to find her release. When I only smile, her head tips back as she tries to get her release by moving her hips up and down, but I don’t allow it. I stop all movements and focus on Lana. My little punk girl groans in agony. She’s angry and frustrated, yet this is right where I want her to be.
“In due time,” is all I say when I solely focus on Lana.
This pisses her off, causing her to thrash against her tied up hands. The knot is too tight, and I can see the exact moment she realizes it’s impossible to get out of the hold. I let her stew for a while as I work on Lana. Her pussy is wet and she is getting close.
After I take my thumb and rub her clit while I keep moving my fingers in and out of her, Lana starts to suck in a breath and pant wildly. It will only take a few more movements and she will be ready to come. However, I’m quite enjoying having all the control, so I slow my assault and turn back to the other girl.
She is lying there, dying to get off and all I can do is smile. “Are you ready now?” I ask and she nods excitedly. “Good, because I’m gonna change the world as you know it.”
I put my hands back on her body as well as Lana’s. I begin to wildly circle their clits, pressing harder into their tender flesh as I quickly guide them up their mountain of ecstasy. They climb quickly, and suddenly, both women begin to wail in pleasure. Before another second goes by, they both come—hard. A symphony of pleasure is released from their lips as I push and dig the pad of my fingers into their swollen flesh, watching them experience the best high a woman can feel. The sight is intoxicating and erotic.
It only takes me a second to roll a condom over my dick as I fall between Lana’s legs and ram it inside of her. I don’t want a soft and delicate love making session; I want hardcore, unforgiving sex. I want to fuck and so I do.
I push firmly inside of her, filling her completely. I rock my hips fast as I lean over her and claim her body. It doesn’t take long before I’m finding my release and feel Lana rediscovering hers. However, I’m nowhere near done. There is too much desire building back up in my body. My balls are heavy and my gut is craving. Lucky for me, I’ve got another woman to make mine.
I roll off Lana and release her restraints. She falls weakly into the mattress, no longer able to keep herself awake.
I yank off the used condom, depositing it in the trash then roll another one on. I stalk my way back to the bed where the punk girl is tied up, waiting for me to fuck her. I give her the same treatment as Lana as I ram hard into her warm flesh, staking my claim. I’m in deep and can feel her tightening around my dick. She comes within moments, and with a few hard, intense thrusts, I join her, coming rapidly, my body shivering with its force. I’m releasing all the stress, tension, and worry I’ve had brewing over the last few hours. I exhale a relaxed breath and take a second to regain my composure.
I stand from the bed and remove that used condom before leaning forward to untie the punk girl and start dressing. Both of them are overwhelmed and exhausted.
Once dressed, I stand at the foot of Lana’s bed and pull out a thousand bucks. I don’t want to be a total jerk, but I did cause them to miss out on a night of drunk and well paying customers. From the look of them, exhausted on the mattress, I doubt they will have the energy to return to work. This makes me smile; I caused this. They’re tired because I gave them each earth shattering orgasms, but I don’t want them to feel guilty for entertaining me. It may be an insult, but it doesn’t stop me from tossing the cash on the bed.
Before I walk out, I say, “Thanks, ladies, it’s been fun.” Then I step out into the cool night. I begin to walk in the direction of my house, debating on going back to Cami’s before deciding against it. I make my way back home instead.
The beast inside me has been subdued temporarily, however when the sun rises tomorrow, he will be back. If I ever get the opportunity to leave my double life, maybe then the beast will finally be at peace. Only if…
“Awwwww, Ricardo! No! No!” The horrifying scream rips through the air when I walk up our driveway. I immediately drop my belongings on the back porch as I race into the house. “Why, Ricardo? Why?” My mother’s plea to my dying brother rings through the house as she lies crumpled on the living room floor, holding a picture of Ricardo when he was a child. Her hands are trembling and her breath smells as it always does, like booze.
“Mama, shhhhh…” I try to soothe as she cries over my dead brother.
I fall to the floor, wrapping my arms around her frail, weak
body. I start to slowly rock her while whispering soothing words in her ear.
“Camilla, why my Ricardo? Why him?” She is sobbing in my lap and her wet tears soak through my diner’s uniform. “Don’t let him get you, too, Camilla.” She abruptly sits up and stares me in the eyes. Hers are swollen and bloodshot while her breath smells of liquor as she pleads with me. “Promise me, Camilla. Don’t ever let him get near you. He will try to buy you, and at first, you’ll like it, but then you’ll be dead. Just like your father, just like Ricardo—dead!” She shouts her intense hatred for my Uncle Matt.
After I nod and guide her head back onto my lap, she whimpers as she whispers promises to me over and over. I calm her down enough to turn her rants into gibberish then silence. The vodka finally soaks in, causing her to pass out.
I settle myself on the floor, lean against the couch, and continue to stroke her head. I look my mother over and feel at a loss. She was once a beautiful woman. Born in Mexico, her parents immigrated to the United States and worked impossibly hard to give their only child the American dream.
I’ve always adored how well kept my mother was. Although we didn’t have much money, she always seemed to have wrinkle free clothes; flawless, tan skin; and vibrant, sparkling, brown eyes. Her smile was radiant when she’d look upon my brother and me with pride. She was a lovely woman and the epitome of the perfect mother. We always had a hot meal on the table, clean clothes, and warm hugs. She was amazing, and I looked up to her adoringly.
Redeemed Love Page 4
